Travelling. . .

Airports are really strange places. Airplanes are too. Time does strange things in them; for much of the actual airtime it ceases to exist, but then it suddenly reasserts itself in a desperate rush of hurry. Avowed introvert that I am, I interact with strangers regularly in airports and on airplanes. The man I sat next to while waiting for our delayed flight to start boarding was on his way to San Francisco via Denver to watch his daughter graduate from high school. The woman who sat next to me on the plane was worried about making her connection, and that she didn't have a dog sitter for the night if she couldn't make it back to San Diego. They could tell you that I'm on my way to Costa Rica to volunteer in a library for a summer, and she could tell you that I have at least one cat who sleeps on my bed regularly. I chat with the people at the fast food places where I get my dinner, or at the bookstore. A woman and I chuckled in the bathroom at the difficulties of getting the automatic water faucets to turn on. And airports are strange, because they are places that exist solely to provide transportation to other places. No one goes to an airport for the airport. Maybe the people who work in airports feel differently, but really. Even a train station can be a meeting place, a destination in itself. Airports? Not so much. Maybe some of that has to do with the security - all of the interesting stuff at airports happens past the security booths.
This plane, though, was a strange place not only because of the strange things time does in transit, but because we had a flight attendant with the biggest personality on the plane. He made irreverent asides during the "In the case of _______ emergency, do this. . . " speech, causing much of the front half of the plane to crack up. The best was his "We are arriving in Denver" speech, during which it became apparent that he either spends far too much time planning this sort of thing or far too much time without sleep. Aside from forgetting to account for the time change when he gave the local time, he also made several other gaffes. The best one was the one that seemed the least planned: "As you exit the plane, there will be an uninformed Frontier representative who can help you find your next gate." Read that carefully.
Also, I have a three-ish hour layover in Denver, so I am people watching as my gate slowly fills. There are two very excited little girls who are playing on the electric sidewalks, running up and down them. The man across from me looks like a business traveler - he is reading a newspaper and checking his blackberry compulsively. I am also judging the people who walk by on the moving sidewalk. Really? You want to fly in a mini-skirt and 3 inch heels?! Or, slow down! Your kid can't keep up with you - look behind you. In other news, I'm really not that great a person. . .
Anyway. I am very excited for my time in Costa Rica. I do wish that my flight weren't at such a late time - I arrive in San Jose at 5:19am, which is much earlier than I would really like. That's what I get for having a cheap flight, I guess. I'm getting super rambly, so I'm going to close this off. Next post will be from Costa Rica!